


Heroic

by merelypassingtime



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Headcanon run amok, I am not responsible for any and all cavities caused by this story, I probably shouldn't tag when I am tired, Like embarrassingly sweet, M/M, Parentlock, Sweet, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 21:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13532796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime
Summary: Sherlock buys Rosie a set of army fatigues. Fluff ensues.





	Heroic

John trudged up the stairs, more weary than a relatively normal day at the surgery could justify. 

He knew it was that normality that worn him out, the montomy leaving him drained in a way hard work never had. Throughout med school and his deployment he had regularly worked through chaos and blood, often for days on end without sleep. Now, eight hours diagnosing colds, prescribing antibiotics, and filling out the endless paperwork that the NHS ran on had him struggling to keep his eyes open after lunch.

Again he considered applying for a position in an A&E, somewhere that would be less mind-numbingly dull, but the regular hours just wouldn’t fit into his life, not with an overactive toddler to look after. Oh, and he supposed Rosie could be a handful too, if not on quite the scale Sherlock was. He would just have to find his chaos elsewhere.

As if in response to the thought, a crash came from upstairs. John felt some of the tiredness melt away as he dashed up the last few steps. He burst into the sitting room, searching for threats. What he found was Sherlock, hiding behind the overturned coffee table and taking heavy fire from a gleeful-looking Rosie wielding a toy gun far too large for her. Still, the several foam darts sticking to the table attested to her accuracy with the weapon.

“What’s all this, then?” John demanded, trying and failing to sound stern.

“Daddy!” Rosie shouted, immediately dropping her weapon and running towards him.

When she stumbled just before reaching him, John caught her up, twirling her around in the air before pulling her in for a hug. “Baby Bee! I missed you today!”

Rosie giggled delightly as John pressed a kiss to her head, then looked up to where Sherlock was just standing up. He was brushing off his ridiculously expensive trousers, a serious look on his face. The bright yellow dart caught in his unruly curls rather undermined his efforts.

John gave into his grin, and still looking at Sherlock he asked, “Been keeping your papa busy, have you?”

“Uh-huh,” the girl answered. “I’m a brave soldier today!”

“Are you?” he asked, looking down at her again. Sure enough, she was wearing a set of miniature, but perfectly accurate fatigues. “So you are, baby. Looks like your papa got you a new outfit today.”

“Well, she expressed an interest.” Sherlock said, as if that explained everything.

John knew that in Sherlock’s mind, it did too. If Rosie asked for the moon, Sherlock would turn his entire intellect towards plucking it from the sky for her. It was incredibly endearing and just a bit frightening how devoted he was. Heaven help the first date she brought home, John knew he would be too busy conspicuously cleaning his gun and glaring to help them himself.

Now, he just shook his head in mock reproach. “I’m surprised you found fatigues small enough.”

“I didn’t, I had my tailor make them.”

John’s sigh was equal parts amusement and exasperation. “Of course you did. Because the ones at the shops just weren’t good enough, I suppose.”

“John! They were all pink. Soldiers don’t wear pink.”

Rosie nodded sagely, “Yeah, Daddy. Soldiers don’t wear pink,”

“Not on duty anyway,” John corrected. “Off-duty they can wear anything they’d like.”

Rosie considered that deeply for a moment before declaring, “But I want to be on duty so I can shoot all the bad guys and save people and make them feel better.” She leaned back a little in his hold to proudly show him the stethoscope he hadn’t noticed that she was wearing. It was, predictably, a real one. 

“That’s a very nice stethoscope, sweetheart.”

“Yup, and when I grow up I’m going to use it to help people, and I’ll have a gun to protect them, and I’m going to be a hero just like you are Daddy.”

“Like me? But I’m not--”

“Yes, a hero,” Sherlock cut him off. John looked up sharply, surprised to find that at some point during the conversation Sherlock had moved closer. He was now standing right next to John, meeting his gaze steadily. “Just like I told you, Bee, your Daddy is a hero. He’s saved many lives, including mine.” 

Sherlock leaned forward to lay a gentle kiss to John’s cheek, his eyes infinitely soft and achingly full of love and pride.

John swayed towards him, leaning into Sherlock’s comforting warmth. “No,” he whispered, his face pressed against Sherlock’s neck, “you saved mine.”

Sherlock wrapped his arms around the two of them, and for a moment they just stood like that, united as a family, drawing strength from one another.

Then, Rosie squirmed to get down, and the moment was broken.

John blinked away the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and took a shuddering breath to steady himself. Reluctantly, he turned away from Sherlock’s embrace and set Rosie down on the ground.

Crouching down to her eye level and forcing his voice to stay even and light, he said, “Well, heroes need supper too, right Rosie? What would our little hero like to eat tonight?”

“Buttered chicken!”

“Thai it is, then.” John looked up at Sherlock, asking “If that is alright with you, love. Are you hungry tonight?”

Sherlock smiled back at the pair and answered, “Starving.”

**Author's Note:**

> This grew out of the observation that we always assume that Rosie is going to idolize and emulate Sherlock. Countless fics and pics have been done for Rosie Watson: Girl Consulting Detective. But really, she has two remarkable dads. Isn't it feasible that she'll want to grow up to be like John too?


End file.
